


A Season to Choose

by silasfinch



Series: Seasons [2]
Category: Portrait de la jeune fille en feu | Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)
Genre: Aging, F/F, Family, Gen, Headcanon, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Mythology References, Older Characters, Retirement, Reunions, Secret love, Self-Acceptance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23960683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silasfinch/pseuds/silasfinch
Summary: Mariane has a long and successful career as a portrait artist.Her father's business and legacy are safe.It is time for her to return to the only place that is her home.Héloïse is a respected widow who yearns for the turning of the seasons.
Relationships: Héloïse/Marianne (Portrait of a Lady on Fire)
Series: Seasons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727440
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	A Season to Choose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnNette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnNette/gifts), [poco_piano](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poco_piano/gifts), [silver_greystorms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_greystorms/gifts).



> I couldn't bare to finish this story thank you for all the feedback.  
> Life expediency was depressingly low during this time period but did eventually improve somewhat.  
> Since we have zero canon details I guesstimated their ages, they are both 55 in this, which is a senior age for this time.  
> The student Arabella is the one asks about the painting and her sadness at the beginning and end.

Marianne finds profound happiness in her life. 

She feels every one of her 55 years, especially in the winters, but many memories bring joy. From the beginning, her life is one of uncommon choices and circumstances. Her parents lost their male heirs one after the other. Therefore she becomes their source of support and sustenance. Her father never expresses any disappointment that Marianne is the child that remains on the earthly plane. There is truth to what Héloïse said so many years ago; there is a luxury in having the ability to choose an unconventional life no matter what difficulties lay on that path. For some Marriane is an object of pity without children or husband but sole remaining children (even girls) can take on the work of the family, especially if their marriage prospects aren't high. There are rumours of course, about secret lovers and scandals but not enough to prevent interest in her work. 

_"You have an eye for the changing times." one of her favourite clients compliments._

_"An artist who is not observant can not claim the profession for any length of time."_

Marianne disagrees with the assessment that her art is subject to significant change. Styles and techniques change as colours and clothing come in and out of fashion. However, her father's lessons and wisdom still ring true many years after his death. She is still the young artist that survives that passage to the remotest Brittany, and she never forgets Héloïse's cautions about painting the true passion and character of a person and not merely superficial details. It's those to guiding forces that allow her portraits to stay relevant. The ones she treasures most are the ones of Héloïse. 

She has no children of her own body and flesh, but there are many that she considers family. Some of her students are the second generation now and is lovely to see these girls turn into accomplished young women with families of their own. There is a whole gaggle of cousins and their offspring who are part of the business even though there is still some bad blood about her taking over. All that hostility is mainly in the past considering she conducts herself as an ideal painter and doesn't bring a hint of scandal to the family: the constant comments of 'if only you were a son' die down when she reaches 45 and her second royal commission. She is generous with the wealth and supports several less fortunate relatives as her parents did before her. 

It is time to leave her family and business to the next generation and find her final peace elsewhere. 

***

She will not paint for much longer. 

Marianne is fortunate to escape many of the illnesses that sweep the city, that spare no one, not even the wealthiest of families who commission to paint. The recollection of losing her brothers as a child are faint now with time, but the pain still aches She survives the usual periods of illness with mind and body intact. Her eyesight remains sharp enough always to correct the angle of a students line or incorrect perspective. This charming circumstance will not always be the case, and her hands ache more with every season, and she does not want to wait to produce inferior work. An artist's pride will not allow such an act when she has enough money not to chase after every commission. Many talented apprentices are carrying on work under her father's name, and a few daring ones are willing to use hers. Their style and techniques of her family legacy will carry on into multiple generations. 

"Your technical work is competent, but you need to pay closer attention to the subject and capture the details beyond the psychical shape and presence."

The young woman looks at her haughtily before returning to the model, who is a woman holding flowers. After so many years Marianne has taught or had a hand in teaching many ladies of high birth, few with pure talent. Young Claudette has neither talent or passion for painting, but she needs and acceptable pass time and her father's coin is as good as any other. It's her younger brother that has the talent as an artist who drives the proud Claudette wild with aggravation. 

"Why would I need 'passion' when all I am painting is my future husband's garden and our pets. Is that how your hands got so marked and ugly no wonder nobody wanted to marry you, old woman."

Her previously cheerful and diligent students all freeze at the insult and the familiar scaping of brushes and paint sticks stop. For the most part, her students are protective and enjoy this place of relative equality. Few will tolerate open disrespect for their teacher, Marianne only laughs and looks at the hands in question. They do bare the marks of a long life of painting and have unfashionable calluses. She was once a passable beauty if too dark for many men. Now she bears evidence of working for hard for all her adult life. 

"I am proud of my work and how my body copes with the strain. My hands are ugly, but fortunately enough, I do not seek to win any prizes for great beauty or anything. I am not in competition with you; therefore, your insults are wasted on me, Claudette."

Some of her brighter students laugh softly at the subtle remark, but Claudette turns and resumes her paint without saying another word. Over the years, Marianne realises that the biggest problem with her life choices is that she does not care about their judgement of her. Marianne knows she is eccentric and does not try to conform before the boundaries of what allows her to perform her work and flatter the most difficult widow or skittish daughter. Her confidence is a challenge for a woman who is doing everything to conform to society's expectations and demands. Mariane sometimes wonders if they fear her attitudes are contagious. 

She will miss these girls no matter how difficult and prideful some of them are. In their way, each makes her dream of painting for a living reality. 

Her favourite and most frequent subject are waiting for her and the familiar sights of Milan. 

***

Her heart longs to return to Milan and lay down permanent roots with her beloved. 

Marianne sometimes rues the day that she made that foolish comparison to Hades and Persephone. Even though she treasures every one of her seasons in Italy, the pain of parting becomes harder each year, especially when circumstances such as impatient clients or inconvenient border skirmishes sometimes delay her return. Marrianne has a constant fear that something will separate them more permanently, especially with each year that they both manage to defy the ravages of age, accident and illness. During the summer seasons, she tries to memorise each new detail of Héloïse as her love transforms from the faithful wife to a mother and widow. To Marianne, her most extended commission gains beauty rather than losses the fleeting gift with each decade. Héloïse laughs and accuses her of possessing the blindness of a romantic fool. However, she still sits patiently for every portrait. 

"I am going to miss you so much, Marianne."

"There is nothing left for me to teach of our art. You are learning the new techniques with far greater skill than I can hope to achieve. The future of the business is in your hands, Arabella. I am at peace with the decision." Marianne reassures gently holding hands with her former student. 

"Will you go back to your beloved Malin?" Arabella asks wiping at her eyes. 

"There is no place I would rather call home, now that my father's legacy is in safe hands." 

"May I write to you for advice occasionally? Madame Luis will be heartbroken to realise that I am the poor substitute." Arabella asks tentatively. 

"Every day if you wish, but you will find your way with the most challenging patron. There is no magic to it only time and experience You have an excellent eye for detail, and eventually people will start requesting your work under your name until then I am proud for your to claim mine." Mariane offers gently. 

"Your decision makes you happy, which gladdens my heart; you deserve happiness. Sadness lingers even when you try to hide it underneath wit and charm. I have a gift for you as a small token of appreciation for your support through the years."

Marianne gasps in shock and her hands tremble as she recognises the picture that Arabella is holding up. The image is achingly family and different at the same time. The first brush strokes faded over the years of long neglect in the attic after the first viewing. _Portrait of A Woman of Fire_ is one of her earliest works, but it still makes her heart race. Arabella is looking nervous, trying to judge her reaction, but Marianne cannot draw her attention away. Her apprentice must have spent hours restoring the image in secret; this is no easy feat with heavy oil paints and ageing canvas. The indistinct shadow of the woman burns with intensity, and the flames are bright hues of yellow and orange. The memorises flood Marianne as sharp as if she was painting and crying over the image yesterday. 

"Oh this is wonderful, Arianna, thank you so much, darling girl. I will treasure this for the rest of my days. 

"Consider it a gift for your new home even if you are returning to your old home."

***

Héloïse is a much more conventional widow than she was a wife. 

Marianne knows that her beloved wishes to create a private world for them to share during their time together. A tribute to those first precious days together as little more than children. For the most part, the lady of Milan is successful; there is nothing particularly suspicious about female companions sharing time, especially when one is a respectful widow with a well-respected son and dynasty. Marianne cultivates a reputation in the city as a visiting portraitist, and little and any hint of curiosity dies down through the years. 

As Marianne predicts, there is far greater misdeeds and misadventures to occupy the imagination. Whatever beliefs the Countess holds about her daughter and the female painter die with her and Marianne there was something like grudging respect there, for her discretion if nothing else. Sophie knows many but not all secrets, and she does not breath a word against either of them. She remains loyal to Héloïse, and one of her conditions for marrying the baker is that he allows her to keep working till children bless their household. 

Stefano lives for far longer under Héloïse's care than anybody predicts but when his heart gives out when Marco is twelve they move seamlessly into a new role in their lives, secure in both finances and society. Marco is fluent in both French and Italian and learns a handful of other languages for the purposes for trade. He shares his mother's love of music, and they play the piano and harpsichord together even though that is unfashionable for a young man. 

_"I feared both the fate of motherhood and Sophie's dilemma in equal measure. Mother did not provide with an easy blueprint to follow, especially after my sister died..." Héloïse confides once_

" _You are are a wonderful mother, and Marco adores. You do not treat him like a stranger or marriage bargaining chip. There is little more he could ask for."_

_"Did you know he told me he wants a wife like Aunt Marianne,"_ Héloïse _replies laughter in her voice._

_"His affections are easily won at this age. I bring him exotic presents from overseas and bribe the cooks to give him his favour sweetcakes., there is no magic to my presence."_

" _I would dispute that you bring summer and lightness to the city every time you return no matter what the season. I am not the only one to think so, darling."_

A selfish part of Marianne begrudges any happiness that she isn't part of; still, the more significant part of her soul relishes how Héloïse flourishes in her new role as patron and grandmother. She was wrong all those years ago Héloïse is too bright and engaging for the Benedictines and their solo music. Héloïse needs to surround herself with all forms of music and the company of people that will understand and respect her. For all her protests at the time her life, Milan is a success, and her son is living proof.

Her only wish is that she can makeHéloïse's final seasons no matter how many they be, are free of nightmares and pain. 

***

Mariane sneaks into the city of Milan like Hades in disguise. 

Of course, such words are not entirely true, but the image amuses her nevertheless. A woman of her standing not to matter her independence cannot travel completely anonymous anymore. In truth, her age makes such things impractical, and Marianne is glad she doesn't need to scramble up the shoreline and cliffs to see Héloïse this time. Her knees what not take the strain and her berth on the boat was far superior this time. There are certain comfort and concessions come with age. However, being in the familiar climate of the second home gladdens her heart. 

In years past Héloïse always know when she is due to arrive, and a stream of carefully worded letters pass between them, planning trips and the small elements of the precious time together. This time she is technically visiting 'out of season'. Now is the height of demand for portraits with trade prices faring well and a mild winter that enables good trade. With the advancements in medicine and preventing disease, more children are surviving to adulthood and thus marriageable age. Her business is in the capable hands of an apprentice and her much older but devoted husband. 

"It is good to see you, Aunt Marianne."

Marianne feels an overwhelming surge of tenderness as she sees Marco waiting for her in the entrance hall. With each passing year, he resembles his mother more strongly. Marco has the same blond hair and memorable green years. However, he has Stefano's height and mannerisms, Mariane is a position to know, for it is she who paints all the important milestones of his life, including his wedding portrait several years ago now. He inherits his father's talent for the trade and becomes a wealthy merchant due to his abilities as well as marrying into an equally successful family. His grandmother would swoon over the result of all her planning. 

"Thank you for assisting me with this, Marco. It is wonderful to be here again and congratulations on the birth of your newest daughter." Marianne replies with a smile of genuine affection. 

"Seeing you will make Maman happy, as always," he replies with a smile. 

Marianne knows that her relationship with this man will always be on uncertain ground now he is an adult. Marco is a product of the conservative Milanese high society. His marriage, though happy, was practically a certainty since birth and he inherits many views from his uncles and paternal family. Marianne is his mother's friend, who is a fixture in their lives every few years. At the same time Marco adores his mother and her unusually active role in his life, he will not hear, and word said against her amongst his friends and ensures that Héloïse has everything that she could desire in widowhood. Rumour has it that Marco turns down several profitable marriage offers because the families insulted his mother and her 'French Ways'. A childhood friend and neighbour respects Héloïse is the eventual bride. In defiance of convention, their first daughter bears the name of her maternal aunt. 

"Your rooms are in the wing next to Maman's, and you will share a living space. I know you said you are no longer painting, but the room has the best light in the whole house, and the children won't disturb you." Marco guides her down the long corridor. 

"Thank you, Marco."

He turns and regards her sincerely an apparent conflict in those green eyes; eventually, he musters up the courage to speak. His accent sounds heavily French when he cautions her. This moment is probably the closest they will come to mention the topic of the relationship in any detail. Mariane feels a surge of dread, not knowing if Marco is hiding years of resentment and will put stipulations on her being here. He may adore his more mother, but he is most definitely in charge of the household now, and his word is the law. His wife forms a conservative family, and they will only tolerate so much. 

"Be careful with the way you conduct yourselves. Many dignitaries are traveling these parts; we do not want any trouble. Maman's reputation is something I have to work hard to maintain." Marco says seriously. 

"Discretion is the lifeblood of an artist; you have nothing to fear from me, Marco. 

"Good. I will leave you to settle then."

***

Marianne waits for Héloïse in a small sitting room nibbling on excellent cakes. 

After so many years, this house feels almost as familiar as her apartment in France. There are memories attached to many objects and rooms in the house; some of the moments are private and secret, while others involve Stefano and Marco. Marianne smiles when she sees many of her paintings hanging on the walls. An artist is usually critical of their earlier work, but Marianne adores these works because they connect to her to Héloïse. Strangely enough, her favourite remains the tribute to Stefano and his role as a father, despite him being the reason for their parting in the beginning. He was a decent husband when Héloïse feared a monster; the years of caretaking gave her love solace after great pain. 

"Darling, I don't have time for visitors. I have a granddaughter to coo over, and you have a wife to congratulate and find a gift for." Héloïse's familiar French accent floats down the hallway. 

"Trust me Maman; this guest will be with the time, Louisa will be there in the morning," Marco argues gently in the same language. 

Marianne feels her body tense with anticipation, not unlike their first reunion all those years ago. Héloïse's familiar light footsteps are slower now, and there is a slight limb from a troublesome knee that Sophie and her daughter were always trying to find cures to ease the pain. Marianne hears every detail of the moments even though the clock in the room sounds extra loud. Unlike their first reunion, Marianne feels confident of her reception, but Marianne still feels a surge of nervousness and foolishness at the notion of the surprise. They are too old for such childish games. 

"I am sorry to call you away from young Lousia, I hear she is as lovely as her grandmother," Marianne calls out softly. 

Héloïse gasps and stares blankly from the doorway. She looks stunning in a simple green dress, Marianne knows she is biased, but green is a beautiful colour on her. Naturally, Héloïse cannot wear any tokens of their affection. A widow who chooses not remarry has only so many freedoms. Marianne likes to think that style choices reflect treasured memories. Fortunately, Héloïse is part of a group that believes that restrictions such as corsets were unhealthy (after one too many fainting spells). The Rational Clothing Moment wasn't substantial in Italy, but Marianne is glad that the other woman can breathe through the shock. 

"Marianne what are you doing here, you have months worth of portraits to do, I was expecting you in the spring. The crossing is too dangerous in winter.." Héloïse frets moving slowly into the room. 

"Many portraits will still be done in my name. My hands and heart grow weary of such labours without out you. Like my father, before me, it is my good fortune to leave the profession in good standing with funds to live comfortably. If you would have me, I will return here for Vivaldi's final act and make a final choice." 

"Am I dreaming? Are there conditions on your return as there is with Eurydice or are you gravely ill and see solace before the afterlife?" Héloïse asks with a trembling voice. 

"Nothing so grave or beyond the usual complaints of ones who are ageing. I would not put you through the pain of caring for somebody like that again; such things are not in our futures for a few seasons yet."

"I will do such things gladly when the time comes, Marianne."

"For now simply kiss me, and we can make new memories for those remaining days."

***

"I cannot believe you are here with me."

"So you keep saying, darling. I promise you I won't float away with a breeze or a puff of tobacco smoke." Marianne reassures with a delighted laugh. 

They are sitting together on the loveseat in the living room that is between their adjoining rooms. There remains and respectful distance between them, but they are close enough for Marianne to smell the familiar perfume that haunts her dreams. Naturally Italian fragrances are available in France for a price, but she never manages to find precisely the right scent. Héloïse's grey and white hair capture the candlelight, and her wedding ring glitters in the shadows. The moment feels and once familiar and dense with a certain amount of newness. They cannot act on the feelings racing between them. Marco's acceptance and respect have its limits. Héloïse will always be the strange foreigner with odd ideas, and they will both have a reputation to uphold till the day they die. However, hidden their relationship is it will be with the difficulties. For once they have the luxury of time and every season to figure out the new rhythm of life together. 

"I will get to see you every day and night without having to imagine and the oceans and miles that separate us." Héloïse continues gesturing for Marianne to move closer. 

"Thank you for waiting for me and letting me fulfil my obligations so far away from you. In the legend, I could never figure out if Demeter, Hades or Persephone has the worse fate and finds the wait hardest." Marianne muses quietly. 

"Persephone I think and Eurydice for the same reason, for their heart was already in two before the choice. The others possess some level of power and choice; the two women did have such grace in practice." Héloïse asserts decisively. 

"Perhaps but we do not know the end of the story or fable. Perhaps our heroines earn power and prestige after the story ends, as you have in your role as a grand Milanese lady." Marianne teases gently trying to coax a smile. 

"I had no power in the situation ever since you came in the guise of my companion so many years ago. My only choice was lessening the degrees of pain that being away from you brought, our seasons were almost cruel." Héloïse disagrees smiling sadly. 

Headless of who may be watching or the fact that they can no longer rely on Sophie to guard their secrets, Marianne moves closer. She traces a hand down the familiar curve of Héloïse's check, stopping to admire the fine wrinkles there. For once she doesn't feel the burning desire to paint this beautiful woman, the only thing she wishes to do is to kiss her and ease some of the tension. The kiss they share is far from chaste or appropriate for a widow, but the house is large, and everyone in the household is familiar with Héloïse's solitary ways. Its a risk but a worthwhile one at this moment. Marianne wipes at a stray tear on the other woman's cheek. 

"Always so willing to focus on the bleakness, my darling, few are lucky to possess such love for an instant. We can claim the rest of our lives together, without the threat of your mother or marital obligations to pull us apart. Your darling son all encourages me to relocate for I make his Maman happy. Focus on that miracle for a moment." Marianne instructs gently. 

"Kiss me and don't stop," Héloïse instructs with authority. 

"Neither of us is as limber as we were when we were youthful and rebellious." Marianne indicates with a delighted laugh. 

"I don't care."

They move slowly and carefully, taking advantage of the soft and plush furniture as Héloïse pulls Marianne on top of her shifting her body to accommodate the familiar wait. Marianne starts kissing down the hollow of her neck the place that never fails in making Héloïse moan with desire. There is a different texture to her skin, but the sensation is the same. Héloïse is not idle and begins to unfasten the simple clips of Mariane's dress muttering slowly in a mixture of Italian and French love poetry. Marianne feels the overwhelming sense of belonging as they learn each other all over again. 

This time may be their first or last season together, but they will cherish every second and every story. 


End file.
